


Tracking

by chissprincess



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Father and Son Relationship, Gen, Hunting, Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2018, legolas as a tiny elfling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 17:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15890559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chissprincess/pseuds/chissprincess
Summary: Thranduil promised he would take Legolas hunting, but work gets in the way. Legolas is not pleased.Written for the Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2018





	Tracking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dahmumu](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Dahmumu).



> Based on art by Dahmumu! Check out Dahmumu's Tumblr: http://dahmumu.tumblr.com/

Thranduil could hear the argument through his study door. Well, half of it anyway. Galion’s half was murmured softly, so softly that even his keen Elvish ears couldn’t always hear the other’s words. He could never understand them. In cases like this, Galion was very patient and soft-spoken in an attempt to keep the young Prince calm.

Legolas, on the other hand…well, he was not responding to Galion’s best efforts.

“But he promised,” Legolas whined. There was a pause, filled only with the quiet and indistinct words of Thranduil’s aide, and then louder, “But he proooooooooooooomiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiised.” This time he could pick out the words, “I know, young Prince,” in Galion’s response, but nothing else. For a moment, there was true quiet. Thranduil thought Galion had somehow worked his magic and convinced Legolas to give up his complaints. 

Alas, he was mistaken.

“BUT. HE. **_PROMISED_** ,” came one final protest, so loud it disturbed the birds that had come to perch on Thranduil windowsill. As the birds fluttered off, twittering in confusion, the door to Thranduil’s study burst open and Legolas stalked in, a flustered Galion at his heels.

“My apologies, my lord, he managed to slip past me and –”

“Ada you PROMISED to take me hunting today,” Legolas declared. He stomped his way to Thranduil’s side, where he came to a halt and folded his arms over his chest while he pouted up at his father. 

He was angry. Thranduil sighed. Legolas’ ire was not entirely unreasonable. Thranduil had promised…but this treaty was not going to review and sign itself, and this was urgent. Dale’s latest leader didn’t like the terms his predecessor had agreed on with the Elvenking and had decided to push his luck trying to renegotiate their terms. Thranduil was having none of it. This was the fifth draft of their treaty that had been returned to his desk for review and he was finally becoming concerned with what the king of Dale would do if this continued much longer. Would he rouse forced to march on the Woodland Realm? Maybe. He wouldn’t win, of course, not on the Elves’ own land, and not with any army he could muster. But still, Thranduil wished to avoid even testing the idea. So it really was of the utmost importance that he scour this treaty and –

“ADA you aren’t even LISTENING,” Legolas said. He huffed and kicked the leg of Thranduil’s chair. 

“Please do not kick my chair,” Thranduil said, and sighed. There was no good way to fix this. He reached up to rub the back of his neck as he considered his options. This treaty really did have to be finished today, and by the time he finished it would be too late to take Legolas into the forest. Legolas was still so young, too small and unskilled for night-time hunting. Choosing to work on the treaty would only disappoint his son, and continue his slow descent towards being Legolas’ least favorite person. But choosing to take Legolas out to the forest would mean he would be up all night finishing the treaty, or would have to put it off until tomorrow entirely, and the delay would anger his important trading partner. 

He heard footsteps in the hall and glanced up to see Feren coming. His other aide had been attracted by the commotion, it seemed. Feren stopped just outside the door and frowned a little, but didn’t come in. He opened his mouth to speak but Thranduil just turned his head slightly to one side, and Feren’s mouth immediately closed. This…perhaps there was a solution to be had here.

Thranduil looked back down at Legolas, who was starting to look like he wanted nothing more than to begin kicking the furniture again. “Legolas,” he said, “I did promise you, but unfortunately today I cannot keep my promise NOW.” Legolas’ lower lip trembled. Thranduil could feel a tantrum coming, but he pressed on. “You must understand that I am a King and sometimes that means I have to put the good of our people ahead of the things I would rather do. You need to learn this now, because you may have to do this someday too.” On the plus side, Legolas no longer looked like he was going to cry. No, his little face had instead turned bright red. Apparently he was ready to skip right to angry shouting instead. “I do not WANT to break my promise…but right now, I must finish this, and I know that by the time I do, it will be too late to take you into the forest.” He glanced up and motioned for Feren to join them. Feren didn’t look much like he wanted to deal with the angry Prince either, but Thranduil knew he couldn’t turn the treaty over to Feren and Galion to handle. He had to do that himself, which meant that it would be their job to manage Legolas for the time being. “Instead, why not go with Feren and Galion to the range and practice your archery again? Perhaps one of the guards can begin showing you how to make your own arrows. I will finish this as quickly as I can so that we can go tomorrow instead.”

Legolas looked like he wanted to argue, but he was smart enough to know that it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Besides, right now he had his father’s sympathy. Push it too far and the sympathy would vanish, and he would be reprimanded instead. That would mean no fun target shooting with Galion and Feren, no fun arrow making with the guards…maybe no hunting in the forest with his father tomorrow. So he sighed and nodded. “Fine,” he said. “But you better not forget this time,” he muttered.”

Thranduil reached out to smooth Legolas’ hair a little. “I won’t,” he said. “…I didn’t forget today either,” he said. “I just…I had to…” he sighed. He could explain all he wanted but the truth was that Legolas wasn’t ready to understand all about kingly duties. “Tomorrow,” he repeated. “For now, go with Feren and Galion. I shall see you again for dinner.” 

*** *** ***

“A fine shot, once again,” Galion said as Legolas lowered his small bow and took stock of his accomplishment. Three arrows clustered close together on the target. Legolas hadn’t quite managed to hit the bullseye, but two of the arrows had come quite close. But rather than smiling, he scowled at the target and huffed.

“Didn’t get the middle again,” he groused, and flopped down on the nearest stool. Galion just shook his head a little while Feren went to retrieve the arrows. Around them, members of the forest guard were also shooting targets, their bows much larger and their targets much further away than anything Legolas could handle now. The younger prince watched as a small group of guards drew arrows, nocked them, and fired in perfect unison, all hitting the centers of their respective targets. Legolas just poked at the ground with the very end of his bow.

“Ada loves me, right Galion?” he asked.

Galion silently cursed his misfortune. Legolas had been asking this question more and more lately, and Galion was running out of ways to answer that satisfied him. It had been easier when Legolas was younger…sitting in his father’s office while the King worked was enough for him then. So was being taken away for nap time when he got sleepy. But not anymore. It was only normal, Galion supposed. Legolas was growing up and his needs were growing with him, and now he had only his father to rely on. 

Galion wondered if Legolas even remembered his mother at all.

He caught Legolas staring up at him, confusion and concern etched across the youngster’s features, and he nodded. “Of course he loves you, my Prince.”

“Then why does it seem like he never wants to DO anything with me anymore?”

Feren appeared just in time to hear that question and handed the arrows he had collected to Galion, frowning a little and mouthing a silent, “What’s this about?” at his friend. Galion shook his head and gave Feren a look that clearly stated ‘the usual’ before crouching down to place the arrows back in Legolas’ quiver. “It’s not like that…”

Legolas snorted. “Sure it is. This is the THIRD TIME he promised to take me hunting and didn’t. And then before THAT he kept promising to take me out to the big clearing to see the stars and it took him FOREVER to finally do it. And then before THAT he forgot my begetting day.”

“In his defense, he HAD been thrown from his elk just the night before...” Feren murmured. Legolas only glared at him and Feren sighed. “His injuries were worse than you were told, my Prince,” he said. 

Legolas frowned and kicked his heels back against the stool’s legs. “But he hadn’t been injured all those other times,” he said. “So what’s wrong? Did I make him mad?”

Galion crouched down again so he could kneel beside Legolas and reached up to pat his shoulder. “No. You never make him mad.” Feren pointedly coughed and Galion threw a scowl over his shoulder. “Sometimes he thinks you…er…need to learn better manners. Such as earlier when you were kicking his chair. But he could never be mad enough to avoid you.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“You are the most important person in his world, Legolas, but he is also our King,” Feren said. “He has to think about how to take care of EVERYONE.”

“It doesn’t make sense though,” Legolas said. “Everyone here takes care of themselves.”

Galion sat back on his heels and looked up at Feren, feeling a little helpless. How was he supposed to explain the complexities of politics and economics to someone as young as Legolas? Someone who still got his letters confused sometimes and who had actually believed it when another child claimed that wine was funny-colored water and who had never yet had to decide anything more difficult than whether or not to eat a third honey cake. 

Honey cakes…That gave him an idea.

“Legolas,” Galion began, “you see all the guards here, right?” Legolas nodded. “Well, your father has to choose them all and make sure he has other, more experienced guards who can train them and give them orders every day. But your father also has to know everything going on here in the forest, so he knows where guards might need to go to keep us all safe.” He stood up and held a hand out to the Prince. “Come with me, please,” he said.

Legolas got up and took Galion’s hand, but he wrinkled his nose a little as he did, clearly suspicious of Galion’s motives. Galion chose to ignore that and simply led Legolas towards the kitchens. But they didn’t go into the kitchens (which made Legolas whine a little – he could smell his favorite honey cakes baking as they passed). Instead, Galion walked right by the kitchens to a spiral staircase, which he went down slowly, Legolas and Feren following close behind. When they reached the landing, they found themselves in the palace’s enormous food storage rooms. It was much cooler down here than up by the kitchens, and the place was filled with row upon row of foodstuffs. Galion noticed that some portions of the shelves were looking a little bare – this whole debacle with the treaty was holding up trade, so they were running a bit low on things like flour that they usually got from Dale. He knew the wine cellars were looking sparse too, but there was no need to bring Legolas there.

“You know some of these things, yes?” he asked Legolas. The young Elf nodded. “Right, we get a lot of our own food from the forest,” Galion said. “And many people have gardens too, so we can even get some food from there. But some things we don’t make ourselves, like the flour for your honey cakes. Do you know what will happen if we can’t get the flour?”

Legolas’ eyes widened a little. “…No more honey cakes.”

“Correct. No more honey cakes,” Galion agreed. He suppressed as sigh as he looked around the storeroom. Obviously, the bigger issue was that without flour there would be no things like bread, and without the other goods they got in trade, the Elves’ diets would be lacking many important things. “We get the flour from Dale, did you know that?” he asked, deciding to push on with his somewhat sad attempt at a lesson. As Legolas slowly shook his head, Galion continued, “We do, and many other important things as well. This is why your father must spend so much time on treaties and on keeping Dale happy. This is why he had to finish the treaty yesterday rather than go hunting with you. As the King, it is his job to take care of us and make sure we all have things like safety and food. Maybe someday it will be your job…your father is very good at it, even if sometimes it hurts and makes you both sad.”

Legolas didn’t say anything, but he looked around the room, eyeing the food. He kept watching as one of the cooks appeared from the stairs. She sketched the quickest curtsy to Legolas, Galion, and Feren before disappearing into the shelves to collect something. Before Legolas was done contemplating Galion’s words, she returned with a sack of potatoes and headed back up the stairs. Legolas watched her go, and finally nodded a little.

“I…guess it’s okay then,” he said. “I wish he didn’t have to work all the time though…I’m lonely.”

“Perhaps we should speak to him about finding you some more friends,” Galion said. “Or even sending you to another Elvish realm for a time. It might do you some good.”

Legolas’ eyes widened. “There are OTHER Elvish realms? Do they have kings too? Where are they? Does it take long to get there? Why don’t they ever come visit us?”

Galion chuckled a little and waved for Legolas to go back up the stairs. As they walked, he did his best to answer Legolas’ questions. In all honesty, he was just grateful that he had found some way out of the Princes’ angry funk.

*** *** ***

The next morning, Legolas appeared in his father’s office bright and early. He was already dressed for their adventure in the forest, and already carrying his bow and arrows. As Thranduil attempted to give last-minute instructions to the ambassadors who would be carrying this latest treaty proposal back to Dale, Legolas marched around the room and chanted, “hunTING hunTING hunTING” over and over…and over…

“Legolas,” Thranduil finally said, “please stop doing that in here, I need to finish this last thing and change my clothing before we can go and it will all go much faster if the ambassadors and I can hear each other.” Legolas scowled at him, and Thranduil just raised an eyebrow at him. Legolas decided that it wasn’t worth arguing about, so he wandered out into the hallway. They could still hear him chanting and stomping around in the hallway, but at least now it was much quieter and Thranduil was able to finish giving his instructions quickly. The ambassadors finally bowed and left, and as Thranduil went from his study into his private chambers, Legolas snuck back in.

He was busy poking at some of the antlers on Thranduil’s wall when his father finally returned, fastening the last button on his overshirt. “Legolas, be careful, that is old and fragile.”

“Is it from a big deer?” Legolas asked. Thranduil nodded. “Did you hunt it?”

“No…your grandfather did.” Thranduil paused for a moment, then returned to his chambers, and when he came back again he had his bow and his favorite quiver of arrows in his hands. “Come now, we should head out before it gets too late.”

*** *** ***

“Now, Legolas, have you been studying any hunting texts with your tutors?” Thranduil asked, glancing down at his son, who was keeping close to his side. Legolas nodded. “Good. Tell me, what is the most important rule of hunting for the Elves?”

Legolas frowned a little, his nose wrinkling as he thought. “It’s…it’s…we only hunt what we need?”

“That’s right,” Thranduil said. “And what does it mean to only hunt what we need?”

“It means…” More frowning and nose-wrinkling. “It means…we don’t hunt more animals than we can eat.”

Thranduil nodded. “Yes,” he said. “And we try to use everything from the animals we hunt. It is cruel to waste things. Why do you think that is?”

“The animals are our friends too,” Legolas said. He didn’t even have to think about that one. “So we have to treat them well, and they’ll treat us well too if we do.”

“Very good,” Thranduil said, and Legolas beamed up at him. “Besides, it is not good to kill too many animals, for if we do, they cannot increase in numbers, and we will hurt ourselves in the end.” Thranduil stopped by a large tree and glanced around, his eyes taking in the surroundings and seeing things Legolas didn’t even know to look for. “What shall we track today?”

“A big deer!” Legolas exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide to demonstrate just how big the deer should be.

Thranduil chuckled. “We can track a deer,” he agreed. “But you are not yet ready to kill one. If you want to make a kill today, we must choose something else. But first, the tracking. Come here, look at the tree and the ground. Let us see if there are any signs of a deer.”

They headed deeper into the forest, Thranduil keeping an eye out for anything that would help them in their task and Legolas being surprisingly quiet. Thranduil was grateful. It would make their task much easier if the animals weren’t busy running away from noise. He eventually found a small stand of trees that looked a bit worse for wear and stopped to study them. Legolas eyed the trees, then his father, not entirely sure what he was looking at. 

“A large male deer has been here,” Thranduil said. He approached one of the trees and Legolas followed close. “Do you see how it looks as though something has rubbed against the tree and stripped away the bark?” Legolas nodded. “Well, something was here. The deer rubbed his antlers on these trees, and that stripped the bark. So now, we know that a deer was here. But we do not know where he has gone or how long ago it was, though…” he ran his fingertips over the bark, “I do not think this is a very recent rubbing. Probably a few days old at least.” He turned his attention to the ground, which seemed thoroughly trampled beneath his feet, but somehow he was able to make out enough details to lead Legolas to the edge of the little tree cluster. “Here,” he said, crouching down and using his fingers to point out a set of hoof prints. “Do you see these?” Legolas nodded again. “Hoof prints. They do not look new either, but we can use them to see where the deer went.”

“How do you know it’s the same deer?” Legolas asked.

“Well…right now, I am guessing,” Thranduil said. “But I do believe it is the same one. We will find out, I hope.” They headed deeper into the forest. Thranduil decided that the tracks were easy enough to follow right now, so he motioned for Legolas to go in front. “You should see if you can follow the tracks,” he said. “Go slow, and if you need to stop for a closer look, we will stop.”

“What if I get us lost?” Legolas asked him. His eyes were wide as he looked up at his father.

“You will not get us lost.” Thranduil chuckled a little and shook his head. “Even if you go astray, I am here to help. We can find our way home.”

Legolas nodded and took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and marched ahead. He stopped every few minutes to bend over and get a closer look at the ground. Sometimes he had to brush leaves and other debris aside to double-check that he was still following hoofprints. Thranduil just followed him quietly, checking for other signs of their quarry. He had the feeling that the deer was much closer than they suspected, though he still couldn’t actually see or hear it…yet.

Finally, though, he did hear something, and he immediately crouched down and grabbed Legolas’ arm. His son started to protest, but Thranduil held up a finger to his lips. Legolas went quiet, but continued to frown a little. Thranduil’s eyes darted around until he finally found the direction from which the sound came. They had come upon a portion of the river that ran through the Woodland Realm, and he could clearly hear the water. Legolas could too, and kept looking at his father as though he had no idea why they had stopped to listen to a RIVER when they were supposed to be tracking a DEER. But finally, Thranduil heard it again – soft splashing noises, like something was passing through the water.

He leaned closer to Legolas. “Listen carefully to the water,” he whispered. “Can you hear the splashing? As though something is moving through the water, something that is not usually there.”

Legolas purses his lips and wrinkled his nose as he listened. “…No,” he finally admitted. “I just hear the water.”

Thranduil supposed Legolas just couldn’t pick out the different sound yet. He motioned for Legolas to follow him, and, still crouched quite low to the ground, he inched his way forward through the trees and the undergrowth until he could finally see the river. He pushed aside a bit of a bush to make room for Legolas, who wiggled up close to his side and leaned forward a bit to get a better view. With Legolas settled, Thranduil looked around, up and down the river, until he finally saw it – a magnificent deer, with one of the larger sets of antlers he had seen over his centuries spent in the forest. As soon as he saw the animal, he recalled the many conversations he had had and heard about it. His hunters had encountered a larger-than-average deer many times, and each time had chosen to let it go. They reported excellent luck in their hunts after they managed to track down the deer, get a good look at it, and then let it go. They almost seemed to believe it was a talisman or guardian of some sort, and that letting it go gave them good fortune.

Even looking at it now, Thranduil didn’t believe that there was anything special about this deer except for its larger-than-average size. But he did have to admit that it was a marvelously attractive animal, with smooth fur and antlers that curved up gracefully over its head. It stood on the bank opposite them, and dipped its head to drink the water a few times. Once, it looked up, and straight at them, turning its head a bit so it could get a better look, and even seemed to make eye contact with the Elvenking.

Beside him, Thranduil heard rustling, and could feel Legolas fidgeting. He glanced down to see his son raising his bow, a small arrow already held to the bowstring. He reached over and gently pushed the bow aside. “No,” he whispered. “We do not hunt this one. Your arrows would only injure it and that would be cruel…besides, our hunters regard him as a sign of good luck in their hunt.” 

“Is he?” Legolas asked. “A sign of good luck, I mean?”

“…You know, I have no idea,” Thranduil said. The deer decided they meant no harm and went back to drinking more water while they watched, then calmly turned his back to them and wandered off into the trees. The two Elves stayed where they were until the deer was out of sight, and until Thranduil could no longer even hear his footfalls. He felt that Legolas deserved a more detailed explanation, so as he stood up and stretched his legs he added, “The hunters say that when they see him, their hunt is more successful. I do not know if he has anything to do with that. He seems to be a normal deer. Large, but normal. But it seems to me a bad idea to kill such an animal, when our hunters value his life so highly. I believe the forest values him too.”

Legolas also stood up and winced at how stiff his legs had gotten. “Maybe he’s a king like you,” he said. “The deer king. And he knows the hunters aren’t bad people so he tells the other animals to help them or something.”

Thranduil grinned and chuckled a little. “Hmm, perhaps,” he said. “Should I send some ambassadors to meet him? We might need to make a treaty –”

“NO MORE TREATIES,” Legolas wailed. He threw his bow down and stomped a short way away, letting out loud and exasperated groans as he did. He eventually stomped back to retrieve his bow, though. Thranduil just laughed more.

“Alright, I promise, no more treaties. Not any new ones with the Deer King anyway,” Thranduil said. “Come, it would be a shame for us to return to the palace empty-handed. Do you want to see if we can track something else? Maybe a rabbit or a quail?” 

*** *** ***

They returned home that night just as the sun was setting too low to provide any light in the dense forest, Thranduil carrying two fat quails at his side. Legolas bounced along at his other side, chattering about how he had managed to track the quails and how he had actually managed to get one! Really, all by himself! (Thranduil had gotten the other one. Even Legolas agreed that this was fair. One quail for each of them.)

As the guards pushed the palace gates closed behind them, Thranduil handed the birds off to the cooks for preparation, then ushered Legolas off to his room for a proper bath before dinner. By this point they were both absolutely covered in dried mud and bits of leaves, and Legolas had gotten sap in his hair…but neither of them minded. Servants came to help Legolas and Thranduil wandered back to his own room to bathe and change his clothes as well, and as he did, he thought about the day’s many successes.

Legolas had learned a lot about tracking animals. Thranduil thought it would be a good idea to start letting him go out with the hunting parties soon. That way he could get even more practice, and he would be perfectly safe, surrounded by so many skilled Elves. Legolas had also gotten a sense of accomplishment from the quail hunt. Thranduil had been concerned that Legolas was so attached to the idea of hunting a deer that any smaller game would just be a disappointment, but Legolas had been thrilled with his success. And Thranduil was proud of the respect his son had shown the animals. His easy acceptance of choosing to let that large deer go and the care he took when aiming his arrow so the quail he targeted wouldn’t suffer…he had clearly been learning his lessons well. He would be a good steward of the forest and all of the things living in it someday.

But the thing that made Thranduil happiest was seeing how the day had helped patch up their relationship. They really had been drifting apart, and it was entirely his own fault. But spending the day out in the forest with Legolas had absolutely helped. When was the last time he had seen his son so excited about anything? So happy about doing something? He wasn’t sure, but it had been too long, he knew that much. In fact, he felt that the whole tracking and hunting thing was secondary to the fact that they had gone out into the forest together and enjoyed each other’s company.

After the sun had set completely and the stars were starting to come out, Thranduil joined Legolas for dinner. As he entered the small dining room, he could hear Legolas regaling Feren and Galion with the tale of his great adventure. Galion, standing by the door, glanced over and bowed at Thranduil as he entered. 

“He seems to be in a better mood,” he whispered to the King.

Thranduil nodded. “…I should have done this earlier, and more often,” he whispered back. “I need to remember not to let my work get in the way of things like this so much.”

“Your work is important, my lord,” Galion replied.

“I know…but Legolas is more important,” Thranduil said. He didn’t wait for Galion to reply before joining Legolas at the table and allowing a servant to pour him some wine.

As he poked at his salad, Legolas glanced up at his father. “Ada?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“Can we go tracking again tomorrow? I wanna see if we can find that deer again. He was nice.”

Thranduil smiled a little and nodded. “Of course, Legolas. Tomorrow it is. Bright and early, what do you say?”


End file.
